


Fugitives

by Krissy, YourDearOldFriend



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Asthma, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Canon - Manga, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt, Hurt, Identity Issues, M/M, Panic, Panic Attacks, Running Away, set after Sebastian and Ciel got arrested
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:25:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krissy/pseuds/Krissy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourDearOldFriend/pseuds/YourDearOldFriend
Summary: “Don’t you?”, Ciel forces out again, not daring to meet his eyes.“Do I not what?”Sebastian hasn’t moved a bit, still towering next to the bed, nothing more than a dark shadow. His tone is indecipherable.Ciel closes his eyes for a brief second.“Do you even care for anything else but my soul?”After Ciel and Sebastian miriculously escape Scotland Yard's carriage on their way to prison, they have to find shelter before the nearing snow storm reaches them and figure out a plan to flee the country. As the wind rattles the windows and the freezing night falls, Ciel wonders, without his name or his home or his status and with the revenge he seeks, miles away from him, what good can there possibly be about his soul?





	1. On The Run

There is an abrupt jolt of the carriage and Ciel slides forward in his seat, yelping. He loses his orientation for a brief second and squeezes his eyes shut, preparing for the impact. Instead of the hard wood against his head however, there are strong arms securely wrapping around him, holding him tight against his chest.

His fingers grasp into thick wool, holding onto his butler’s coat. The vehicle lands on the side with a deafening sound and Ciel feels his foot hitting something hard, a horrible pain shooting through his right ankle. His breath hitches in his throat and stops him from gasping in pain. Then everything comes to a halt

Keeping his eyes closed, Ciel waits until the creaking of the wheel still spinning outside subsides, and the world stops turning.

“Young Master... Are you alright?”

Sebastian’s voice is quiet and warm at his ear, Ciel slowly opens his eyes, blinking a few times. His face is pressed against his butler’s chest, he quickly scrambles up, staring into crimson eyes. What happened? How did the carriage crash?

His butler’s lips curl into a sly smile, he sits up, softly shaking his head. “How unfortunate. That carriage could’ve been of use.”

Ciel bit his lip, glancing around, trying to ignore the pounding in his foot. The carriage is lying on the side, the door hanging open on one hinge.

“Ouch...”

Ciel’s head whips around to Blavat, still in the carriage with them, he hasn’t made a run for it yet. The fortune teller is cowering next to them, rubbing his arm. Other than a scratch he is unharmed.

“Sebastian...” Ciel mumbles, gaze fixed on the open door. They need to flee from here before someone notices the accident and arrests them anyway.

“Yes, Mylord.”

Securing his grip around his back and knees, Sebastian moves to exit the carriage, Ciel clings to his coat, closing his eyes again.

“Lord Sirius!” Blavat’s unmistakably mocking voice sounds, Sebastian’s steps stop. Ciel doesn’t move a muscle, pressing his eyes shut. He wishes his butler would just leave but he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you really think you can escape the destiny the stars chose for you? You are a fool.”

Before Ciel could even open his mouth, Sebastian chuckles darkly, his grip on him increasing ever so slightly.

“Oh? Destiny you say. I would call it a meticulously thought-out plan to frame us. But you do have underestimated us, you see. And you have not seen the end of this, Blavat.”

Ciel opens his mouth to say his butler’s name again, but at that Sebastian walks on, leaving the carriage in the blink of an eye.

The first thing Ciel notices is that it had started to snow. An ice cold wind hits his face, he crunches his nose at the sensation of goosebumps creeping over his skin.

“Where are we going, Sebastian?”, he asks, not liking the exhaustion that had crept into his voice at all. His foot is aching but he keeps that to himself for now.

“Up the hill.” Is his curt answer, his steps accelerate. Ciel swallows down his pain, watching the trees pass by, the snow slowly dying their remaining leaves a pure white. He doesn’t recognize this place, he had never been in this part of the forest before, at least not in winter.

“Where are we?”

“About three miles away from the manor. We need to find a place to hide, preferably before the storm gets worse. Staying around here would not be wise either.”

Ciel feels ice cold and it doesn’t have anything to do with the weather.

“We should change our appearances as well. A child and a butler will be what they’re searching for.”

But where? Where are they going? What are they supposed to do?

“I propose it would be best to leave England as fast as possible. The best destination would be Germany, perhaps seek shelter with Baron Diederich.”

Ciel hears his butler talk but the words don’t seem to reach him. His head is reeling with questions, uncertainty and shock. He feels almost numb, as if the control over this situation – the music hall, the Undertaker, the _lies_ – is slipping from his fingers like a wet piece of soap. How is he supposed to go on?

He doesn’t know. For the first time since _that day_ he feels utterly helpless.

But he can’t hang his head now. He can’t run away, he has to stay and fight and take back what’s his, what’s always been his, everything he built up for himself. He can’t just let it be taken from him by his brother. He has to find a way, not turn tail like a cowardly dog and go into hiding.

“What do you suggest, master?”

Ciel secures the grip of his arms around his neck, resting his head against his butler’s shoulder.

What is he supposed to answer? Tell Sebastian he has no clue, that he rather wants to jump out of his arms right now, storm back home and strangle Undertaker, along with his brother?

“We will talk about that once we’ve settled down somewhere. Get me out of this storm.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The landscape and the snow rushes past them in lightning speed as Sebastian hurries up the hill. The snow covered forest blurs around him, becoming a whirl of white and orange, mixed with the golden sky of the setting sun. Ciel shuts his eyes as the storm gets worse, cold wind blowing into his face, his nose and lips are slowly starting to feel numb. Sebastian cradles him closer, undoubtedly noticing his discomfort.

“We’re close to the edge of the forest, a few miles from Broughton. I suggest seeking shelter there for the night, the storm does not look like it will be over soon.”

Ciel nods once, not feeling capable of much more. His fingers, intertwined behind Sebastian’s neck, feel ice cold and clammy. It doesn’t matter where they’d stay, all he wants is to get warm for now. The snow has gotten so thick, he can barely see anything.

Sebastian’s steps slow down and he lets out a chuckle.

“Ah, that is just like them...”

Ciel doesn’t know what he means. He blinks the melting snowflakes out of his lashes, lifting his head.

They had arrived at the top of the hill, surely the view would be beautiful if it wouldn’t be obstructed by the snow storm and Ciel’s teeth wouldn’t be clattering from the cold. 

What makes his heart jump though, is the sight of a cart, parking at the side of the road, loaded with four people.

“Sebastian! Young master!”

There are his servants, all of them (mind Tanaka), waiting for them. Despite the freezing cold, Ciel manages the minutest of smiles.

Bard climbs off the cart, big grin on his lips, Finny is happily waving at him and Mey-Rin and Snake, huddled together, smile down at him.

“We’re here to pick up our wages.”

Sebastian softly shakes his head, slowly lowering him to the ground, Ciel prepares himself to stand, silently hoping the pain has subsided.

“Only when it comes to your payment you lot are quick to do your work, huh?”

Ciel places his feet on the ground, the unharmed one first, then the other one, carefully in the snow.

Safe to say he is thankful for Sebastian’s arm that is still around his back, there definitely is something wrong with his ankle. Every movement hurts and sends a flaming pain up his leg and standing or walking on it is unthinkable. He shoots Sebastian a gaze, blue meeting crimson eyes and his butler firmly keeps his arm around him.

“Young Master? Did you hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine...”, he forces through his teeth, clinging to his butler’s sleeve. “W-We got to go.”

Bard hurries to help him up the cart (not that Sebastian couldn’t have done it), wrapping him in a blanket. Ciel leans against the wood, nuzzling his face into the warming fabric.

Sebastian talks to the servants and once again Ciel’s thoughts drift elsewhere. Back to his brother, to his manor, how he had stood there, atop the staircase, the Undertaker at his side, smiling down at him with these mocking, confident smiles, knowing their plan worked out in the most ideal way. How dare they? How dared he to come back? Claim his name, his title and home? How dared he to do that to him?

He can’t just run away. He has to go back and fight. Fight for what he had earned, all these past years, what was rightfully his and not _Ciel’s._

“Young Master?” Sebastian’s smooth voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he blinks and one second to the other he feels the cold again, the rumbling of the cart, that started driving. His butler kneels in front of him, thin eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Are you alright, Sir?”

Ciel stares back at him, at the white, slowly melting snow in his butler’s pitch black hair, how he remained perfectly still, not shivering, not being troubled by the cold or rumbling of the uneven street. His red eyes are piercing through him, but they lack of any warmth. For the first time in a very long time he wishes for someone to be there to hold him.

“Sebastian...”, is all Ciel gets out, before a fit of coughs shakes his body. He pulls the blanket tighter around his body, burying his face in his knees.

“Young master...” Sebastian’s hands grasp his shoulders but he refuses to look up.

“You’re going to get sick again if you’re in the cold for much longer.” His hands rub his shoulders and Ciel suppresses another cough, his throat is burning, his eyes tearing up. If another asthma attack should come, he doesn’t know how he is supposed to suffer through it. How should he travel, without arousing suspicion if he is sick?

“Let me warm you, Mylord.”

Ciel weakly pushes away his hand, clenching his jaw when Sebastian refuses to stop touching him. Just why does he have to be the ill one? He isn’t weak, not anymore, _he_ is the strong one, the one who survived, came back, the one who established a life, a name and business. Not his brother. _Him_.

“Mylord?”

Didn’t he just think he wanted to be held?

“Please let me warm you up."

Does he want Sebastian to be the one? He’s still here. So are the others. He lifts his head again, being met with Sebastian’s eyes once again. He’s closer, concern on his face only increasing.

Ciel swallows, very slowly giving a nod. Sebastian, apparently relived shifts next to him, tying the blanket tighter around him before placing his arms around him, pulling him close.

He wouldn’t admit, but it feels good. Warm. The familiarity of someone comforting him, simple as that, floods through his body like he had just taken a sip of his favorite hot tea. He allows himself to lean into it, bury his face in Sebastian’s warm shoulder, just for a moment. A moment of weakness, a moment that makes him feel like a weak, little child that had a nightmare and now seeks comfort from their parents. Like back then, whenever he had been ill and they had been worried sick and he spent days in bed, his father and mother at his side, concerned but caring, his brother bringing him hot milk and trying to make him laugh.

But these days are gone and so is his family. At least that’s what he thought.

Sebastian is close to him, closer than ever. He can feel his long hair tickling his cheek, his hand firmly rubbing his arm, he hears his quiet breathing. His butler often carried him and he’s used to his closeness, whenever he tugs him to bed at night, or changes his clothes. But this feels different. He feels vulnerable and Sebastian feels comforting but his grip is strong, too. Like he is very determined to not let him suffer any more harm. That’s what he hopes this is.

He wants to ask where they are going, but he doesn’t feel like opening his mouth and actually doing so.

“Young Master... Allow me to take a look at your foot.”

“Not now”, he breathes out, his numb fingers clutching Sebastian’s coat. His butler’s eyes take him in, he places his gloved hand over his.

“No? Does it still hurt?”

Ciel wordlessly lifts his head, eyes trailing over to his servants. Snake is driving, holding the reigns in his hands, his snakes slithering around his shoulders. Bard, Finny and Mey-Rin are sitting opposite of him, all eyes on them. Where he once might have felt embarrassment, there is now resignation, this feeling of uncertainty swelling in his stomach, the need to explain. Guilt. But he isn’t at fault. _He_ is.

Ignoring Sebastian, Ciel sits up a bit, clearing his throat.

“We need to... come up with a plan. Where to go. And where to stay over night.”

“Do not worry, Master. We will protect you.” Finny chirps, undoubtedly noticing the dejected expression on his face. He sounds so sure. He still trusts him. They all do. Why?

“I propose we leave England on the fastest way possible. Board a ship in Southampton, over to Germany”, Sebastian explains, calmly, fingers continuously stroking over his arms, rubbing away the cold.

“It’s probably best if we split up.”

Split up? Ciel looks up at his butler, his heart feels like it had dropped to his stomach. He can’t go on without Sebastian.

“Servants and their master will be what they are looking for. We should split in pairs of two.”

Ciel swallows, resisting the urge to grasp for Sebastian’s arm again and scream a pathetic _“Don’t leave me!”_ at his face. But instead he simply crosses his arms, waiting for his butler to continue.

“I will stay with the young master”, Sebastian says and Ciel’s heart promptly feels lighter, like his words had lifted a giant stone off it.

“Mey-Rin will go with Snake, you two another way.” Sebastian gestures at Bard and Finny. “It will be too suspicious if we all board the same ship. We’ll meet at Baron Diederich's estate.”

“What about you two?”, Bard asks, furrowing his brows, his eyes on Sebastian. “Will you manage without our help? We can help protect the young master. The yard will be–“

“We’ll be fine”, Sebastian cut him off, the hint of a grin on his lips. “What kind of butler would I be, if I couldn’t protect my master?”

Ciel averts his eyes to the ground. He doesn’t doubt Sebastian’s abilities but he fought against Undertaker once and it didn’t exactly end well. He’d rather not see him get impaled by his death scythe again. Or worse.

“The Scotland Yard will expect us to flee as fast as possible, so we will have to be cautious. No passenger ships and talk to as little people as possible.”

Sebastian then turns to him, his gloved hand squeezing his shoulder. “We will stay behind, hide somewhere until this storm dies down.”

Ciel nods, not having a plan to contradict with. He can only hope that Scotland Yard does actually suspect them to flee the country right away.

“Where do you plan on staying?” Mey-Rin asks, cleaning her glasses with the hem of her skirt, a concentrated look in her maroon eyes.

“A place where we won’t be suspected.” Sebastian’s crimson eyes scan around thoughtfully. They have left the trees behind and are amidst fields now, all covered in white powder. If Ciel squints his eyes, he believes to see a couple of houses in the distance.

“My apologies, my lord, but for the night we will have to do with a simple inn as a hideout. You need rest and no one will be looking for us there.”

Ciel simply nods again, tightly clenching his teeth to keep them from clattering. But where? How much longer would it take until he could stop freezing? If he would become ill _again_... He doesn’t even want to think about it.

“I suggest stopping at the town ahead and see if there are any available rooms for us. If it’s possible for you four, you should continue until the next village...”

The servants nod immediately and Ciel listens to Sebastian thanking them, promising that everything will go according to plan and they believe him. Of course they do. Sebastian never lies. Unlike him.

Ciel feels another cough coming, he turns his head away, muffling it in his elbow. Sebastian, naturally, notices anyway.

“Young Master, I–“

“I’m fine!” He swats his hands away, hiding his face under the blanket. Finny and Mey-Rin whisper about something, but he ignores it. He doesn’t need to be belittled, he had been his whole life and just when he thought he distanced himself from that life, from that _person_ , it all comes back. And now? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	2. Stormy Night

Ciel watches after the cart until his servants vanish in the snow and he’s left alone, with only Sebastian at his side. He had insisted on them taking the vehicle, assuring them they would be fine and they needed it more. Half a mile before they reached the town they had gotten off and continued their journey alone.

“Master.” Sebastian had lifted him into his arms, as soon as they got off the cart. Ciel didn’t complain, he was too cold, tired and his foot is still aching.

“How are you feeling?”

“Cold”, Ciel wipes his nose and eye with his sleeve. “I can’t feel my feet or my fingers.”

“My deepest apologies. I will prepare a hot bath once we found a place to spend the night.”

Ciel nods, resting his head against Sebastian’s shoulder. He can only hope that whatever place they would be staying in had a bathtub and warm water.

“We should find something else to wear first. People are less suspicious of simple townsmen.”

“Where are we supposed to find clothes?” Ciel shields his eyes with his hands, squinting to see through the thick fall of snow. The village they are entering is fully snowed in, no soul is out on the streets in that storm. He doubts that someone would voluntarily lend them clothing too.

“We steal.” Sebastian says as if it is the most logical thing. Stealing from peasants, really? Was that how low he had sunk?

Ciel doesn’t give an answer, resting his chin on his butler’s shoulder again, eyes fixed on the single pair of footsteps he is leaving in the snow.

Would the Yard take up their trail? Would Undertaker? He is a Shinigami, surely he has similar powers to Sebastian when it comes to following their prey. Would they be safe here? Anywhere?

Sebastian undoubtedly would protect him and so would his servants, but would it ever end? What does he want, what does his brother want? Come back and reclaim his name? Is that all? Wouldn’t it be foolish to think they didn’t have an ulterior move? Undertaker is unpredictable. And now that his brother, no, this puppet of his brother is back, could he ever return home without destroying them? And if he could– would it still be home?

Would Lizzy still want him back? Her family, the only family he had left? Would they forgive him? Or would they leave, like everyone did? What about Tanaka? He said his loyalties lie with the head of the Phantomhive household but if he _knew_ , then why didn’t he tell the truth earlier? Would the Queen still want him to be her watchdog? Or had he inevitable lost her trust? All of their trust?

Ciel shuts his eyes, trying to push these thoughts out of his head. He could rack his brain about that when the time to return home had come. For now he has to focus on surviving the night without freezing to his death. Sebastian’s body does a moderately good job at providing warmth, but his foot is still hurting like hell and his nose is disgustedly drizzly with snot.

Sebastian stops in front of a narrow house, the single window at the ground floor lit up, silhouettes are to be seen behind the curtains.

“I suggest entering this house through the top window and search for something other to dress in there. We have to be quiet though.”

Ciel quietly waves his hand in affirmation. It’s not like he has any capability to do such kind of thing without Sebastian. Anything to get him out of the cold.

Sebastian tightens his grip around him, before taking a start and doing an inhuman jump up to the first floors windowsill. Ciel keeps his eyes shut as he does so, hands firmly intwined behind his back.

Sebastian is as quiet as always as he opens the window and slips in, effortlessly shutting it behind them without any noise. It’s a bedroom they’re in, small but comfortable, a little messy perhaps. There is a single bed, unmade and a closet and that is it. Sebastian carefully sits him down on the bed, opening the closet, beginning to pick out various items.

It’s still not warm in here but being out of the freezing wind was a start. He already dreaded the moment they had to go out there again.

“Here, my lord.”

Sebastian places a stack of clothing on the mattress next to him, picking up a plain brown shirt, thankfully, belonging to a man.

“It is poor but it will have to do.”

Ciel merely nods. He would’ve laughed at the way Sebastian eyed the, in his opinion, not aesthetically pleasing clothing, but the corners of his lips wouldn’t turn up if he begged them to.

Sebastian kneels before him, stripping him out of his coat and suit, like this was just another one of their evening routines. He unbuttons his shirt and Ciel shivers when the cold air hits his bare skin. His butler hurriedly dresses him in the new one, throwing an even browner jacket on top and wrapping a thick woolly scarf around his neck, before moving on to his legs. He only gets to keep his shoes.

Once Ciel is dressed and looking like the child of a peasant, rather than a nobleman, Sebastian strips out of his butler attire as well.

“I apologize. A butler shouldn’t undress in front of his master.”

“It’s fine.” Ciel mumbles, lowering his gaze to his hands in his lap, to the gloves he still had on and the ring on top. _That ring_. He swallows, the image of the very same piece of jewellery, stained with blood all to vivid in his mind. He had never been able to forget it. And then, carved into the wall of his bedroom, the words: _Who stole the candy from my tummy?_ He feels a shiver running down his spine just thinking back to it. It was only hours ago and yet it feels like an eternity.

He strokes over the blue stone with his thumb. He had taken it. It belongs to him. So does his name and title and legacy. _He_ is the Earl of Phantomhive.

He feels a spark of anger, again, anger at how quickly they took all of that from him. He wonders what they are doing now at the very same moment. Sitting together and drinking tea, laughing at how perfectly their plan had worked out?

“We should leave. The people downstairs have finished eating and will come up here soon. We shouldn’t get caught.”

For a moment Ciel wonders how Sebastian can know that, before he remembers Sebastian’s true identity came with supernatural hearing. He looks up at his butler, now dressed in equally modest clothing, only it wasn’t too big on him. Sebastian leans down, putting some kind of newsboy hat on Ciel’s head, smiling rather amused.

“Now, let’s find place to stay the night, shall we?”

Sebastian reaches out his hand and Ciel takes it, ignoring the slight smirk tugging at his butlers lips as he is lifted into his arms.

The cold is even worse than he remembered and he hasn’t thought it possible but the snow had become nothing but a mess of thick flakes.

“There is an inn down the street.” Sebastian’s warm breath hits his ear as he speaks. “Perhaps they will have a spare room for us.”

“If they don’t, you will make them.” His words don’t come out as forceful as he would have wanted them to, due to the cold and his constant shivering. The wind is howling around them and he pulls his hat further down into his face, even though it does little to nothing to shield him.

“Understood.” Sebastian approaches the house, it looks old and shabby like the rest of the buildings. But there is life inside, he can see people behind the windows, drinking and chatting, unbothered by the storm outside.

“Let me handle this, my lord.”

Sebastian carefully lowers him to his feet and Ciel keeps a tight grip on his arm to not give in to his hurting foot, glancing up at him.

He trusts him. If there was anyone he could still trust, it is Sebastian.

His butler pushes open the door, helping him over the step and Ciel does his best to limp as little as possible. It would be less suspicious that way.

There is a warmth coming from inside that instantly stops his shivers. The noises of the storm stop as the door falls shut behind them. A few heads turn to them and Ciel halfway hides behind Sebastian. The chances that someone is in here who knows him are very slim yet he still doesn’t want to risk anything.

Sebastian’s grip around his arm tightens the tiniest bit as he gently pulls him along to the bar. Ciel keeps quiet and watches as he puts his hands to his shoulders, the smile on his lips lacking its usual appeal. He looks almost tired.

The young lady serving behind the bar looks up and Ciel naturally expected Sebastian to charm her into giving them a free room and mentally prepared himself to tune out his hearing for the time being, when Sebastian’s hands begin cleaning the snow of his hat and shoulders, gently, brushing over his cheek for a brief second.

“Good evening, Miss.”

The ladies eyes flicker to Ciel’s face and linger on his eyepatch a moment longer than necessary. He swallows. It can’t be. The word can’t have travelled this far already.

Her gaze goes up to meet Sebastian’s again.

“Good evening, gentlemen. What can I do for you?”

Sebastian gently squeezes his shoulders as if to tell him to play along and Ciel barely keeps himself from flinching at the unusually familiar way his hands rest on him.

“Do you happen to have a free room for my son and me?”

Ciel is sure to have misheard.

“Oh, we are quite full, Sir.” The lady gives them an apologizing look and Sebastian’s strange smile fully disappears.

“Really? Do you... happen to know any other place where we could stay then? I don’t want him to be out in this storm again. He’s already got a cold.”

Sebastian applies the slightest bit of pressure on his shoulder and Ciel feigns a cough, leaning into his side. He knows what he is doing. Pretending to be the father to his sickly son, very innovative... Ciel feels his cheeks heat up in shame and anger, resisting the urge to slap Sebastian’s arm away. Why didn’t he tell him of this ridiculous plan earlier? Then again, he probably would have agreed anyway. It certainly is less suspicious that way.

Sebastian’s hand brushes through his hair, tenderly tugging a loose strand behind his ear. Ciel lets him, determinant to scold him for it later. How dare he behave like that?

But, no, he isn’t his butler anymore, not right now. And didn’t he order him to get them a room? As long as he doesn’t have to go out into the cold again, perhaps he should just play along.

Ciel presses his arm over his mouth, forcing out a raucous cough, he doesn’t have to do much faking.

Sebastian rubs his back and he bites his teeth together, slinging his arms around his butler’s torso, like a child seeking his father’s closeness. It is pathetic.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you can do?”, Sebastian persists, an unfamiliar tone of desperation in his voice.

The woman sighs and leans over the counter, lowering her voice.

“Look... there’s a bedroom that usually is reserved for the master of the house. If he isn’t here by now, he won’t be until tomorrow morning. One night.”

There is Sebastian’s charming smile, bright and relieved and he promptly grabs the woman’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Thank you so much. God bless you.”

They did indeed sink low.

Sebastian and the bartender agree to pay in the morning, she gestured them up the stairs, telling them it was the last room on the left and that they should call if they needed anything. She said that with a soft smile directed at Ciel. He forces one back and clings to Sebastian’s arm as he helps him up the stairs.

The corridor is pitch black, and for once he’s thankful for Sebastian’s hand against his back. He safely guides him to their room, unlocking the door.

The room is small, similar to the bedroom they’ve stolen from before. There is only a narrow bed, the mattress looking hard and worn out, an ebony closet at the opposite wall, another door indicates a bathroom. Ciel crunches his nose at the thought of spending the night here.

Sebastian goes to light the candles while Ciel limps to the bed, sinking down on the (indeed hard) mattress. It feels good to finally put up his foot, his ankle is hurting like hell and his boot feels too tight.

“I will immediately run you a hot bath, young master. After that I’ll take a look at your foot.”

Sebastian disappears into the little adjoining bathroom, the door falling shut behind him. Ciel buries his face in his hands, letting out a long sigh. So here they are, in a run-down inn, wearing stolen clothes, on the run from Scotland Yard and his dead twin brother. With no idea of how to go on.

Sebastian seems to have a plan. Going to Germany. And hoping Diederich will be willing to help them. If he wouldn’t, he had to find another place to stay. To figure out a plan to fight back.

Ciel reaches down to take off his shoes, flinching when he touched his ankle. Was it... broken? How exactly did he hurt himself? When the carriage crashed there had been so many things happening at once, he barely had time to hold onto Sebastian. He must have hit it somewhere...

The door of the bathroom swings open again and Sebastian steps out, Ciel can hear the water running.

“The bath will soon be ready. I’m sorry I can’t serve you a hot tea right now.”

Ciel only nods. Sebastian kneels down in front of him, carefully taking a hold of his foot, pulling off his right sock.

“Where does it hurt, master?” His gloved fingers start to tenderly stroke over his foot and ankle. Ciel bites his lip, flinching when they touch a point where the pain flares up again. Sebastian hums softly.

“It’s sprained, most likely. Try to move it as little as possible, we will cool it once you’ve taken the bath.”

Ciel simply nods, allowing Sebastian to take him into his arms and carry him into the small bathroom. The bathtub isn’t big but it will do for now, it’s already full with hot water.

Sebastian lowers him to sit on the edge, stripping him out of the remaining clothes. Ciel keeps his mouth shut, letting him orderly fold his clothes and put them aside, he doesn’t feel like talking. His butler helps him into the tub and Ciel feels his muscles relax as soon as the water touches his skin, melting the cold away.

He shuts his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. Sebastian’s now bare hands take off his eyepatch, gently brushing his hair back. He then starts rubbing over his back with the piece of soap and when Ciel keeps his eyes closed he can imagine himself back at home, as if this is just another evening. He had spend the day with boring paperwork, writing letters and declining invites until his back ached. Sebastian suggested a hot bath and a warm milk with honey and he’d fall asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

“Young Master...” Sebastian mumbles, softly pressing on his shoulders and Ciel dips his head under water to wet his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut, holding his breath. It’s exhausting and for a brief, silly second he debates not diving back up again. That wouldn’t solve his problems.

He gasps for air, the cold feeling stinging in his throat and he stifles a cough. He is almost sure there is another cold coming.

Sebastian seems to think so as well, he is quick to lather his hair and wash the rest of his body, before lifting him straight out of the water and wrapping him in a towel. Ciel knows he’s very much treated like a child, but he finds himself caring surprisingly little. Where there had been anger at Sebastian for introducing them as father and son earlier, there now is only exhaustion. He wants to sleep.

“Let’s get you into bed, master.”

Sebastian carries him back to the bed, sitting him down, dressing him into the same shirt and pants as before, they still feel way too cold and big on him, he even puts his eyepatch back on but Ciel is too tired to ask why. His butler then opens the window, an icy breeze filling the room, Ciel slips under the blanket, pulling it tightly around himself. If this storm doesn’t get less over night, they had to figure out a plan to get through it without freezing to death. He couldn’t rely on Sebastian warming him forever. Who knows if the ships even leave the harbour in this storm?

“This will cool your foot and prevent a swelling.”

Something cold and wet presses down on his ankle, he winces, glancing at his foot, peeking out from the blanket.

His butler is leaning down to him, a towel filled with presumably snow draped over his foot. It eases the pain a bit. He sighs softly, watching Sebastian pull the blanket on top.

“It’s best if you rest now. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

Ciel nods, shifting to the side. The mattress is hard, the pillow flat and his head is spinning with thoughts and worries. It’s warm under the blanket and if he doesn’t move his foot it’s fine but he can’t help thinking about what is going to happen tomorrow. If they would make it to leave the country. How to go on. If he can ever go back to how it was before. Or if he even wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Thanks so much for reading, let me know what you think in a comment if you want to! (✯◡✯)
> 
>  
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> [My Tumblr](https://dangerous-to-dreamm.tumblr.com/)
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	3. Broken

“I’ve been at your side for three years now and I’ve never seen you so quiet, young master”, Sebastian says, an amused tone to his voice. He still kneels next to the bed, looking up at him, red eyes glowing eerily in the dark.

Ciel scoffs, pulling his blanket up to his chin. “Shut up. You know damn well why. What am I supposed to say?”

Sebastian shrugs his shoulders, an unusual gesture. He looks far too casual for the situation being as it is. Ciel demonstratively shuts his eyes.

“Stop finding this funny.”

“You’re under the impression I find this amusing?” He hears Sebastian move, possibly standing up again. _Of course you do. You’re a demon. Anything irrational humans do, you find fascinating. I suppose this is entertainment at its finest, isn’t it?_

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead he mumbles a weak: “Yes...”

“I don’t”, Sebastian responses, just as quiet. “On the contrary. I do wonder how you plan on moving against your brother. Framing you for murder was a genius move on his part. Who would have thought your lie would ever get exposed in such a drastic way?”

Ciel balls his fists, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to not see his butler’s surely mocking expression. No one. No one would have thought. It was never supposed to come out. It wouldn’t have, hadn’t Undertaker revived his brother and betrayed him to Scotland Yard.

“But I’m most certain you will figure out a way to seek your revenge. Even if it’s all the way from Germany. Don’t you, master?”

Ciel opens his eyes, finding his glowing ones, his nails almost painfully digging into his palms. What is that supposed to mean? They are in this contract _together_ , he is obliged to help him achieve his goal. Why does he say that so awfully challenging then? Is that just another one of his teasing remarks? He can do damn well without them right now.

“You tell me. Do I? Do I even have a chance?”

Sebastian chuckles softly. Ciel squints his eyes, taking a breath. He has a demon at his side, yes. But Undertaker has hurt him before, severely, who knows what would happen if he did it again. Who knows what his brother was planning. _If_ he even is capable of doing something like that. Or if Undertaker pulls all the strings.

“My, you sound like you’ve already given up. Where does this uncertainty come from?“

“I don’t know if you noticed, Sebastian, but I lost everything. There is nothing I have left but my sevants. Nothing!”

Ciel sits upright in his bed, his right foot stings painfully.

“Everyone who involves with me gets hurt! Agni is dead because of me! Soma thinks I killed him! It’s only a matter of time until all the people I ever let close will be targeted as well!”

His voice had risen without him noticing and he’s tightly clenching the blanket in his fists. He knows it is inevitable. Who would be next? Lau? Sieglinde? Undertaker isn’t going to stop until he reaches his goal of which he has no idea what it is. And his brother, equally unpredictable what he would do next...

Sebastian, standing next to his bed, seems surprised at his sudden outburst but he remains silent, watching him with those devilish eyes of his. Ciel stares back up at him, at how calm his butler still appears, while his blood is boiling with hatred and anger and worry. How could he be so unbothered by it all?

“What am I supposed to do? The Yard’s after me and I can’t stay with Diederich forever, if he even wants to take me in! I want to have it back, all of it, it’s mine and he has no right to take that from me! How can he be back? It’s not possible!”

He draws in an aching breath, coughs spilling over his lips, but he is too agitated to care.

“He’s dead! I saw him die! And you—“

Ciel leans forward, ignoring the pain in his foot and the building headache. 

“You devoured his soul! I sacrificed it for you to even be here! How can he be back?”

Where there had been surprise on Sebastian’s face, there is now a sly smirk, spreading on his lips, crimson eyes bright in the dark. He crosses his arms behind his back, clearly waiting for him to continue. Ciel glares at him, deathly. He really thinks this is all a game, doesn’t he?

“Stop smiling like that, you bastard!“ Ciel resists the urge to throw his pillow at him to wipe that smile off his face. Sebastian is in this as much as he is.

“This isn’t funny! Oh, yes, maybe it is for you, a demon, seeing my whole existence crumble! For you it’s all entertainment, all you care for is that my soul’s still delicious in the end! Isn’t that so?”

The words slip over his lips before he can stop them. He had never spoken them aloud so freely, not in the last few years after their contract was formed. He knew it all along, he had never forgotten what Sebastian was, what it was that he craved. His soul, nothing more. This knowledge always hangs over him like a storm cloud: why he enjoys dressing him in the most exquisite kind of clothes, why he gets so displeased whenever he gets hurt. It’s all preparation for when the time would come and he’d devour his soul, seasoned to just how he liked it.

And now, without his name or his home or his status, the revenge he seeks miles away from him, what good can there possibly be about his soul?

Ciel suddenly freezes. If Sebastian only ever cared for his soul, the soul he himself said is the most unique he had met in a long time, then what would he do if he had lost the only appeal that was worth staying at his side? What if along with his title and name, his soul had lost its worth as well? Is it still the same as it once was? Has it changed? Is it worse? What if Sebastian lost his interest in him, his appetite? What if he got so frustrated or the situation annoyed him so much, that he annulled the contract, leaving him alone, seeking out another soul, a better one?

Ciel feels like an ice cold hand closes around his heart and squeezes. If he got ill again, weak and helpless, if he would flee instead of getting his revenge, surely the quality of his soul would suffer. If he isn’t the strong, determined, relentless Earl Phantomhive anymore, if he isn’t even  _Ciel_ anymore, then what is there to like about him?

“Don’t you?”, he forces out again, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Do I not what?” Sebastian hasn’t moved a bit, still towering next to the bed, nothing more than a dark shadow.

His tone is indecipherable.

Ciel closes his eyes for a brief second.

“Do you care for anything else but my soul?”

The words hang heavily in the air between them and he believes he knows the answer already. So he takes a breath that stings in his throat, forcing himself to look up into his butler’s red eyes.

“The only reason you’re still here is because you’ll get a meal out of it, right? The contract is all that matters to you, isn’t it?”

Sebastian doesn’t respond. Ciel clenches his teeth, looking the other way. That’s enough of an answer, huh?

God, he acts like that is all new to him. Sebastian’s true motives had always been known to him, he knows it’s all for his soul and he is fine with it as long as he gets his revenge in the end. But he had never considered the possibility of Sebastian growing tired of him. If maybe his soul isn’t worth the trouble he has to go through to help him achieve his goal. If he’d rather have someone as his contract partner who doesn’t meddle with Shinigami and lies about his past and has to flee the country to not get thrown into prison. How bothersome it has to be, taking care of such a soul.

“So what would you do if I my soul is not to your liking anymore?” Ciel regards his hands, twisting on his ring. “Are you going to just walk out on me? If you’d have enough of me, if you’d find someone better, less troublesome... Wouldn’t you leave me?”

His voice had dropped to a whisper, he doesn’t dare to look up, afraid to find that sly smile of his on Sebastian’s lips. He couldn’t leave him. Without him he doesn’t stand a chance.

Ciel swallows, his hand reaching up to his branded eye. If Sebastian left, if he is completely alone, there is no way he can ever complete his revenge. No way he could ever move against his brother and Undertaker without his butler, his _demon_ at his side.

His heart starts racing, his throat hurting and his eyes sting suspiciously, yet he pulls himself together, glaring up at Sebastian determined.

“Don’t you dare ever leave me, Sebastian! That is an order! No matter what is going to happen to me or where I am forced to go, you will stay at my side until I have completed my revenge, no matter what it will take!”

His voice is husky, shaking with the effort it takes to get the words out of his burning throat. Breathing feels difficult and his hands won’t stop trembling, the headache intensifying. But he still isn’t finished.

“You– you are not to ever abandon me. Until the end you will not betray me or leave or decide you have enough of me. My s-soul is yours and you are to take it, if I’m still Earl or– or not, if you want to or not! Understood?”

As soon as that last word left his lips, a fit of coughs shakes him, making him double over and suddenly the dusty carpet is coming closer and closer–

Strong hands grasp his shoulders, preventing him from slamming face first into the floor, arms wrap around his chest, pulling him back into the bed.

“Oh, young master, now you’ve provoked your asthma. What did I tell you about upsetting yourself?”

Sebastian’s voice is smooth and deep, Ciel’s eyes flutter shut as his hands smoothe back his hair, sliding off his eyepatch, taking his face in his hands.

He gasps for air, feeling bile rise in his throat, the headache making his head spin, he reaches up, finding Sebastian’s wrist.

“P-Promise me–!”, he whispers, finding his eyes only inches away from his face. Why doesn’t he react, why hasn’t he answered yet...?

Sebastian’s lip curl into a smirk, his fingers, bare since he hasn’t put on his gloves again, ghosting over his cheek.

“But you’ve already ordered me to, Mylord...”

Ciel squeezes his arm, tightly, willing away the dizziness. Sebastian’s stare is piercing through him, glowing like embers in the darkness.

It isn’t enough. An order. That doesn’t tell him anything. He had given him hundreds of orders and he had followed every last one of them, no matter how cruel or selfish they might have been. It was part of their contract, yes, but this situation is something entirely different. His lies had been exposed and if everyone left him, if he wouldn’t manage to restore his status and if Sebastian would abandon his loyalty, he’d be lost. He’d be nothing more than a child with no name, honor or home. If Sebastian left, he’d be alone. Alone, again, with no one but himself. Someone, he despised since he was little. Someone he doesn’t even know anymore. Who is he without Sebastian? He had been with him since he had become Ciel Phantomhive and now, that he isn’t him anymore, what is left of him?

“S-Sebas... tian...”, he gasps and his lungs tighten, his heart is pounding in his ears, his hand clutching, grasping, clawing at his butler’s sleeve. He knows this is all him, these thoughts, the stress, triggering his illness, he just needs to breathe, calm down and everything will be fine. He just needs to breathe and he’ll think of a solution, of a way to figure all of this out, to keep Sebastian with him...

“Mylord.”

Ciel feels him brush his fingers over his cheek, wiping away the shameful wetness that is tears, he didn’t even noticed he started shedding.

“Calm and deep breaths, remember? Do not panic.“ Sebastian’s hand strokes his cheek and his hair, his own soft breath hitting his skin. Ciel presses his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on that only. Why does he have to be the weak one? The one who had to seek comfort from the only one he could still trust, a demon, playing his butler, no, worse, his _father_ for now...

After what feels like an eternity of Sebastian’s calming words and gentle cradling of his hair, Ciel slowly manages to draw in slow and long breaths of air, his forehead resting against his shoulder, his whole body feels drained and weak. He wants to sleep and never wake up again.

Once his breathing had eased out again, Sebastian lifts him back into the bed, softly pressing him into the cushions, pulling the blanket over him. Ciel keeps his eyes on him, too weak to say any more.

His butler, the smile finally gone from his lips, brows furrowed in concern, puts his hand to his forehead, mumbling quietly.

“We can only hope you haven’t caught a cold again. If it isn’t better tomorrow morning, we need to reconsider our plans to keep moving. I won’t have you walk out there in the cold with a fever and we can hardly consult a doctor.”

Ciel softly shakes his head, trying to keep his eyes from falling shut; the tiredness is slowly crawling over him like a heavy, iron blanket. 

“I’ll be fine...”

“I’m sure you will.” Sebastian adjusts the pillows behind his head, stroking over the duvet. His face is thoughtful as he sits down next to him, on the bed, an unusual gesture. Ciel can’t bring himself to care much about that right now. He turns his head to meet his gaze.

Sebastian has changed in a matter of seconds. One second he is grinning at him, letting him yell himself straight into an asthma attack, then he is back to being the perfect butler, taking care of him in almost fatherly manner.

“Young master...” Sebastian then sighs, pulling his gloves back on, legs crossed, untypically casual.

“I thought you knew that I take my contracts seriously. It would go against my aesthetic to abandon them halfway and seek out someone else’s soul even if it, in your words, is  _less troublesome_. I told you all that the very day you formed this contract with me. In the light of recent events, I was certain you’d remember.”

Ciel avoids his eyes. Of course he remembers. But it was different back then. His soul isn’t the same, is it?

“Your soul”, Sebastian begins as if he can read his thoughts, “is still the most extraordinary I’ve come across in decades. Please don’t ever doubt my desire for it.”

Ciel repeats the words in his head, over and over until he believes them again. Sebastian won’t leave him. He’ll stay until the end, no matter what happens.

“If anything,” Sebastian continues, glancing down at him, the honest of smiles on his lips. “your soul has become more desirable. The quality of it isn’t defined by your status or the name you choose to wear. I will never grow tired of you, Mylord.”

Sebastian leans down to him and Ciel shuts his eyes as his hair tingles on his face and his breath meets his skin before his lips press down on his forehead. It sends a chill through his whole body, somehow cold and warm, unpleasant and welcome at the same time.

“I promise.”

Sebastian would never lie to him. He trusts him. He has to.

Ciel blindly reaches up to his butler’s head, grasping his hair, clawing his fingers into the dark locks, desperately.

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Sebastian.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the last chapter, please let me know what you think! <3  
> Maybe I'm going to write another chapter or sequel to this as I still have some ideas but I'll leave it at this for now! (≧◡≦)
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://dangerous-to-dreamm.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [YourDearOldFriend's Tumblr](https://yourdearoldfriend.tumblr.com/)


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